Quinceañera

Waiting for that streak of light (which may never come).

I did not expect a part of Quinceañera to be this gay. I expected to see a funnier film. I did not expect its narrative balance tilted towards melodrama. Given its predominantly Hispanic setting, I expected to see closely observed, familia-centric relationship dynamics. Intriguingly though, I did not expect the film's more subtle lament on "self-preservation" (a most apt term coined by a reviewer I read on said film). In the end, I can only surmise that expectations are bastard bitches. I personally feel this movie promises more than it delivers. However, based on the promises alone, I am prepared (barely) to forgive its undeliverables.

Quinceañera appears to be a Hispanic equivalent of the Bar Mitzvah or the Debutante's Ball, held on a girl's fifteenth birthday. It is a traditional celebration marking her rites of passage into womanhood. This film hence chronicles the trials and tribulations of Magdelena, a 14 year old girl soon to have her own coming of age in more ways than a mere ceremonial Quinceañera. Extrapolated from her interactions with the people around her, from friends to lovers, from immediate family to surrogate relations, we'd also be getting a sense of the modern moods and social mores blanketing the Hispanic suburbia of Echo Park, Los Angeles and it's not gonna be pretty.

I sense a deeply obstinate undercurrent of fear permeating this entire picture. All its people seem strangely afraid of losing something (rather than someone) they hold dear. The "things" range from material wealth to peer-pressured social status, from needy emotional mentorship to youthfully precocious pride, from staunch religious/ moral authority to intangible attachment to tangible possessions. The people residing in Echo Park hence respectively emit unsettling vibes, collectively squirming like frogs in slowly boiling water. Amphibians think they can adapt in water or land, despite the rising temperatures, until they die, that is. Questions abound; Are they clueless to their predicaments or just clueless by choice? Tricky.

This is perhaps where the supposed "self-preserving" motivations come into play. Case in point (and there are many cases), (Spoilers ahead) Magdalena's stubborn priest of a father only accepted Mag's pregnancy when his sentient wife 'pragmatically" pointed him towards the miraculous possibility of immaculate conception bestowed upon his daughter (though there is a medical explanation). The film does not make clear on whether the father is clued in on the religiously pious conceit he has built-up around himself in accepting her daughter's predicament. The fact that that is the "official" presentation of the father's re-consideration has already masked the supposed silver lining with an ironic discordance. (End spoilers)

In a film which strives to be likeable, it is indeed a pity that something as simple and pure as amor has been demoted to dimming beacons of light, hardly allowed to penetrate Quinceañera's clouded landscape, hence depriving its many undernourished portraits of much needed perspectives. If you asked me, it does not really matter the differences in class, age, gender or race. Everyone seems to be looking for an excuse to not pursue their "love", and instead arming their defense mechanisms in service of something they may unconsciously value more - their sundry fears or loathing. My favourite Eurythmics' quote hence applies here, as

Cruel is the night that covers up your fears.
Tender is the one who wipes away your tears.
There must be a bitter breeze to make you sting so viciously -
They say the greatest cowards can hurt the most ferociously. *

Whether intended by the film makers or not, this is one of the most pessimistic films I have seen this year (and I have seen my fair share of downers). All said, though worthy of this fairly lengthy discourse, the misguided idealist in me can never consider a film like Quinceañera to be my cuppa. Increasingly, I am seeing cinematic attempts to block out the "exit light" as unnecessary, because life by default is already brighter than a big projected white screen, and darker than a cold empty theatre. To quench tastebuds already parched and bitter, a warm brew of Champurrado shall best be served sweet.

* From "Miracle of love" by Eurythmics